


Of Joints, Sleep Paralysis, and Australia

by HathorAroha



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Drugs mention, F/F, Nightmare, bae over bay ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 17:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21342229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HathorAroha/pseuds/HathorAroha
Summary: Days have passed since the tornado razed Arcadia Bay, but the nightmares are no less terrifying, and Chloe's and Max's relationship no less intense.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Of Joints, Sleep Paralysis, and Australia

It’s fucking 3am and Chloe can’t fucking sleep again. She leans back on her elbows outside, her ashtray with its stubs of joints next to her. It’s the middle of the night, it’s still hot as balls, and she still sees the storm and the remains of Arcadia, ghost-like in the moonlight. In the middle of nowhere, somewhere between ruined Arcadia Bay and Seattle, somewhere between there and somewhere out there, and somewhere between then and future, she still sees the ruined diner like it’s right in front of her. Feels that stab of indignation like she should have died so her mother wouldn’t have died in a fucking diner, but then there’s that twinge of guilt, shame, like she knows she’s blaming Max for her mother’s death, for the ruins of Arcadia Bay. But what else did she know but to blame everyone for everything that went wrong in her life.

But Max. Her Max, Max Caulfield, Super Max, Batmax, why-the-fuck-did-you-never-call-for-five-years Max, her otter in her water, ‘you are my number one priority, now Chloe’, Max. She is still here, and she gave up Arcadia Bay for her. Her number one priority. 

God, Max. How can one goddamn woman give her so much when she, Chloe Price, school dropout, rebel, punk, didn’t deserve so much of it? Chloe might always have been Captain Bluebeard, but Max was always the captain of her heart and soul. 

Chloe drags on her joint, thinks of Max still asleep in the back of the truck, wrapped up in an old blanket dug up from somewhere, her face younger and so much more peaceful in sleep than it had been since that whole godforsaken week. God, the girl was eighteen, what fucked up universe decided to put all of fucking hell on her shoulders? And then forced her to choose between Arcadia Bay and Chloe? Shit. Chloe marvelled that Max hadn’t been driven to booze or getting high to forget all that shit, at least for a while. Yet, when Chloe had offered her a drink one night, Supermax had recoiled with a ‘ugh, yuck.’ 

_Never change, Maxine Caulfield. _

Chloe draws her knees up to her chest, squinting up at the stars; she’s sure she sees a planet just above the horizon, unblinking and really bright. Probably Jupiter. She hates that universe, or whoever was up there among the stars, who thought an eighteen year old girl needed to have all that shit put on her shoulders, so that now, when Chloe catches Max’s eye, she sees not an eighteen year old on the verge of adulthood, of pursuing her one passion, but someone twice that age, who has seen more ills and fucked-up shit in life than many in all their lifetimes. What she wouldn’t give for her not to have the bags under her eyes, the faint lines that appear on her forehead, the way she looks at her like someone who has been through a lifetime of trials and tribulations. Fuck. It’s messed up, and what she wouldn’t give to be in Max’s place, just so she didn’t have to go through that. 

After a few minutes, Chloe stubs out what remains of her joint in the ashtray, picking it up in her hand as she stands up, walking back to the truck with its still-open driver’s seat. Dumping the ashtray back on the dashboard, she lifts herself into the seat, leaning back as she shuts the door, shutting it louder than she had intended, and she quickly looks over her shoulder to check Max is still sleeping, and flinches to see her with eyes wide open, her mouth working as if in a silent plead. 

_Jesus. _

Chloe turns in her seat, reaches over to shake Max’s shoulder, to draw her from whatever fucked up nightmare she is in now. Even in the faint light, Chloe can tell Max’s body is stiff as a board, unmoving as though paralysed by whatever terror swam through her brain right now. Max has woken up nearly every night at least once, eyes open, but unable to move her body. Sleep paralysis–Chloe’s heard about it before, but never actually seen anyone affected by it, and she’s glad she never experienced it. 

‘Max! Max, wake up for God’s sake!’ 

And, by some miracle, Max’s body jolts sharply, her eyes clenching shut as her hands fly up to cover her face, her breathing loud and ragged in the confines of the truck. Chloe keeps her hand on Max’s shoulder, gripping it tight. 

‘Hey, Super Max, I’m here, okay? I’m never leaving you.’ 

‘I saw him again, Chloe,’ Max rasps, her hands still over her face, ‘Felt his needle.’ 

Chloe’s other hand balls into a fist against the driver’s seat, her jaw clenching so hard she’s sure she’s going to strain a muscle. She should have killed Mr Jefferson herself. That son of a motherfucker better be burning in hell right now. She never believed in a hell–much less some magical, unicorn-fantasy heaven–but fuck, if hell exists, Mr Jefferson should be burning in its most fiery bowels. 

‘He’s never touching you again. Never.’ 

‘Chloe…’ the hands drop, limp, back down to Max’s blanket. ‘That doesn’t stop…stop him in my dreams.’ 

‘He’s dead, Max.’ 

‘It doesn’t stop him okay?!’ Max snaps, and immediately follows it up with a little gasp, a wince of guilt. ‘I’m sorry, Chloe.’ 

‘Hey, you’re allowed your rage. You can scream and swear and rage in my face, you deserve to after all this fucked up bullshit. You’re fucked up, I’m fucked up, we’re gonna get through this together.’ 

‘I can’t stop feeling it on my neck. His needle…’ Max whispers, a hand moving to rub her neck, right over where the scab from the syringe in the dark room was still healing. Chloe has kissed that spot on Max’s neck many times, and it sickens her to know that not all the tenderest neck kisses in the world could take away the ghost of that sicko’s needle. 

‘You want me to come in the backseat with you?’ Chloe’s used to having spent a night in an awkward position sitting up in the backseat being there for Max after a PTSD-ridden nightmare, and if it means a leg and possibly an arm having gone numb from a cramped position all night, so be it, as long as she was there for Max. 

‘Yeah…’ Max’s voice is no more than a sigh, and Chloe immediately kicks the driver’s seat open, jumps out, and opens the backseat door, waiting as Max carefully sits upright, the blanket falling off her shoulders. Max’s bob is a tangled mess, and she looks paler than usual, and Chloe is sure she can see even darker bags under her eyes. Chloe doesn’t bother to ask if she’s alright, because the fuck she is. Dumb question to ask, when she knows full well the answer. And anyway, how the hell could either be ‘alright’ after all the shit that’s happened. 

Chloe is no sooner settled in the backseat then Max leans into her body, her head on Chloe’s shoulder, her eyes closed. Chloe takes Max’s hands in hers, interlinks their fingers as she drops a kiss in Max’s hair, letting it linger as the brunette readjusts her legs into a slightly more comfortable position. Her breaths are still shallow, but seems to be calming down already. She lets a minute or so of silence pass as Max rests against her, fingers clinging on to hers, her breath tickling Chloe’s bare arm. Her lips move imperceptibly, as though reciting some silent mantra to try to pull together whatever remained of her mind, shattered forever from everything. 

‘Max? How’re you feeling?’ 

‘Urrgh, fucked up as usual,’ she mumbles against Chloe, ‘but better now you’re here.’ 

‘Same,’ Chloe concurs, and she knows Max gets what she means. ‘Pretty fucked up.’ 

There’s a short silence, followed by a sigh from Max. 

‘Chloe, do you ever get scared of falling asleep?’ 

‘All the time.’ 

‘Really?’ Chloe notes the tone of surprise in Max’s voice. 

‘My brain thinks it’s a great idea making me dream of us finding Rachel over and over..’ Chloe shudders, feeling Maxs hands clutch tightly on to hers in response. 

‘Shit.’ Max sounds like she might throw up. ‘That’s fucked up.’ 

‘Or being trapped in Nathan’s creepy drawing. You know the one.’ 

‘The one we saw in the principal’s office?’ 

‘That one.’ 

‘God, Chloe.’ 

‘Bleeding out on the floor of the bathroom as Nathan stands over me, and–Jesus, Max, I don’t want to start giving you even more nightmares than you already have.’ 

‘Like what we’ve been through wasn’t already a long endless nightmare?’ 

‘My nightmares never have you there with me, Max, and you were always there for me during all that shit.’ 

‘Mine too. That’s how I know I’m awake again, when I see you here.’ 

‘Ugh, we’re getting mushy again, Max.’ 

‘Love you too, Chloe.’ 

‘Stop it, I mean it. You know I hate getting all teary and mushy.’ Chloe feels Max shift around, moving her head back to meet Chloe’s smile with a weak one of her own, though her eyes stay dark and world-weary, many years beyond eighteen. 

‘I think the last time I was scared of falling asleep was after we looked into your attic, Chloe, when we were ten and saw that huge spider. Isn’t it messed up that’s what kept me up all night not even ten years ago, and it seems laughable now?’ 

‘i ridiculed you for it. Shit move of me.’

‘That hurt, but…now it doesn’t seem like such a big deal to lose sleep over. Spiders are nothing compared to…I mean spiders don’t seem so bad after all of this shit.’ A pause. ‘Okay, maybe not the ones in Australia. I refuse to go there.’ 

‘Damn it, I was just about to suggest Australia as our next big trip.’ 

Max glares at her, but this only makes her look adorable rather than properly mad. ‘Shut up.’ 

Chloe can’t resist any longer and leans forward to kiss Max, but a quick one that is no less full of love for it. Even Chloe can tell that neither are in the mood for any frisky times in the back seat of the truck. To be honest, neither had been ever since they’d first driven out of the remains of Arcadia Bay. Shit only knew when they would feel mentally ready for moving on to that stage of their relationship. 

‘You’re being chickenshit again, Maxine Caulfield. It’s not that bad over there.’ 

‘Australia terrifies me. You ever heard about cassowaries?’ 

‘It’s not that bad.’ 

‘How would you know, Steve Irwin.’ 

‘Stick to the big cities like Sydney. Don’t go hitch-hiking into the wilderness. Look before you sit on the loo. Watch out for dropbears in trees, and you’ll survive.’ 

Max sighs, leans her forehead in to the crook of Chloe’s neck, right where Chloe loves it best. ‘Sydney…a photographer’s dream.’ 

_Never change._

‘Dream of Sydney, okay, and I better be there too.’ 

‘Chloe, I’m…’ 

‘Never leaving you,’ both finish the sentence in a whisper.

‘You sure you’re okay, Max?’ Chloe asks, even as drowsiness washes over her. ‘You recovered bloody quick.’ 

‘Helps when you’re here. I…love you.’ 

‘Hey, I’m no therapist, but don’t be afraid to scream at me about anything, got it?’ 

‘Gotcha, Chloe.’

Chloe marvels how fast Max can fall asleep, even after a nightmare, her face relaxing from its aged-beyond-years look, the kind that scares Chloe, all of nineteen years old. She studies Max’s face in sleep, noting how the lines between her eyebrows fades away, and the corners of her lips relax, her breathing deep and regular against Chloe, who herself falls into a slumber just as the bright planet sinks below the horizon, the stars moving overhead in a silent procession of ever-moving time. 

**Author's Note:**

> Never in a million years did I think I'd ever do fanfiction for a video game--as I literally play very little in the way of games, even without being at university doing a major in geology, as I currently am--but here we are. But here we are, a first foray into a Life is Strange fanfic--I'm more of a characters explorer than a plots-y kind of lady, as you might tell if you've ever read some of my other fics (mostly Beauty and the Beast, Prince of Egypt, or Frozen), and I loved Chloe the moment I clapped eyes on that character. I definitely enjoyed exploring her character for the first time in the format of a fanfic.


End file.
